


Embrium

by wellperhaps



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bathing/Washing, M/M, Open Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 23:58:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17908157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wellperhaps/pseuds/wellperhaps
Summary: Bull has been gone for some weeks.





	Embrium

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic for the Good for each other charity zine. Thanks for having me, it was a joy :)
> 
> If you want a copy, keep an eye out for the last sale of the digital zine (in March 2019)!

Dorian watches from the library window as The Iron Bull and a small group of his mercenaries, silhouetted in the setting sun, cross the bridge to Skyhold.

Once inside the gates, Bull hands his mount over to a waiting stable hand. An assistant of Josephine’s walks over to greet him. They exchange a quick word, their body language polite and impersonal. As Bull starts to make his way towards the tavern, a dwarf in unremarkable clothing brushes up against him. Bull pretends not to notice. One of the Nightingale’s people, most likely. A piece of paper probably changed hands, though Dorian couldn’t see it. He makes a point of not getting involved in Leliana’s business.

He’s more interested in the way Bull walks. There’s a tension in him that Dorian recognizes. Bull has been on the road for almost a month now, doing something the Inquisition is not officially involved with. The Chargers are professionals, and Dorian wasn’t worried, exactly. But he knows the Iron Bull does not get assigned the easy tasks.

Dorian organizes his research with brisk movements, dims the oil lamp in his nook.

“Good night,” he tells Helisma, who answers in kind.

 

*

 

Dorian enters the tavern and pushes through the crowd, mindful of the small satchel swinging on his hip. The items he brought with him are not as precious as the potions he’s used to handling, but he is careful all the same.

Bull is sitting at a table with a bowl of something greasy and steaming. Dorian inhales, looks at him for a while, before sitting down himself.

“Hello. I see you’re back. The people in charge of munitions must be wringing their hands.”

Bull looks up and gives Dorian a small smile. A real smile, he is happy to note.

“The kitchen ladies like me just fine.”

“I’m certain you do your best to sate their appetites in turn,” Dorian offers. It comes out a bit softer than he intended, but that is alright. He is not here to bicker.

“You here to sate your appetite, then?” Bull asks, more quietly. He knows Dorian doesn’t enjoy being made a spectacle. Not when this thing between them has moved from innuendo and drunken sex to something… different. Dorian doesn’t know what, exactly, but he does not wish to make light of it.

“Me? Oh no. I’m here to ask if you would join me in the baths. Just for bathing.”

He is sure Bull would be up for a quick, rough fuck if he asked for one. Bull would gladly throw him onto his stomach, push his cock between his closed thighs and make Dorian spill into his large, warm hand. Dorian entertains the thought for a while. But no. Bull is tired, sore from the road. There is time for that later. Somewhere in between the kitchen ladies, apparently. The thought doesn’t upset him, it just makes him smile. Bull is here, safe and unharmed, spooning food into his mouth. There is surely enough of him to go around. Dorian wants to lean closer, to reach over the table and touch Bull’s arm. But he waits.

 

*

 

There are several baths in the lower levels of Skyhold, small rooms all connected to the water heating system. Bless the Maker for dwarven engineering. The room Dorian chooses is already filled with steam. Dorian wills a flame to the candles mounted on the walls.

“I don’t usually go here. I like the sauna behind the soldier’s barracks,” Bull says, his voice echoing in the room.

“I’ve never tried it,” Dorian says, distracted. He digs out the vials of oils he brought with him and sets them on the wide stone rim of one of the tubs. Then he turns to Bull.

“Let me,” he says, and starts unbuckling Bull’s harness. The smell of him this close is so familiar by now. Campfire smoke, leather and horses. And underneath, something that is only Bull.

When Bull is completely naked, Dorian runs his hands down along his sides. In the low, dimly lit room Bull looms even larger than usual. Dorian presses himself against Bull’s stomach, squeezes his soft hips. But no, best not to get distracted.

“Into the bath, if you please.” Dorian squeezes the flesh of Bull’s buttock, and gets a huff of laughter.

Bull settles into the water while Dorian disrobes. Once naked, he poses for a while in the candlelight for dramatic effect. Bull hums.

“I should’ve come here before. Good view.”

“The service is even better,” Dorian says. He sits on the ledge of the tub and pours a generous amount of purple oil into the water. A quick wave of his hand, and the water starts to foam. The smell of embrium fills the air.

“Oh, that’s nice. Did you get it from Val Royeaux?” Bull asks.

“No,” Dorian says, unable to keep a hint of pride from his voice. “I made it. There is a very helpful book in the library, filed under ‘Household ointments and remedies’”.

“And that caught your eye? I’m surprised.”

“I can’t see why. I am a very practical person. Never one to look down on the more unassuming arts.” He pours the contents of another vial onto a sponge.

Before Bull has a change to say anything contrary about his character, Dorian grabs hold of his wrist and starts scrubbing his arm. Bull looks at him, clearly amused, but stays quiet and lets Dorian have his way. Dorian works his way up Bull’s arm and over his wide chest. When he can’t reach any further, he slides into the water, his legs spread wide over Bull’s hips.

“Hello. My name is Dorian. I will be your bath attendant today.”

“Why hello there,” Bull says and grins in that lopsided, absurdly charming way of his. This close, he looks very tired. The lines around his eye are deeper than usual. But he is smiling at Dorian, and he reaches out to run a hand down Dorian’s back. Bull’s skin feels wonderful against his in the warm water. Dorian smiles back and continues his task.

Eventually he has scrubbed every inch of Bull’s arms and torso. Instead of moving lower, he reaches up to remove Bull’s eye patch. He takes a softer washcloth and runs it over Bull’s face, gently. He catalogues all the familiar scars and the new scrapes, already healing. He has a balm for those, too. Later.

“You should shave,” Dorian whispers before leaning in and kissing the corner of Bull’s mouth. Bull’s arms tighten around him. You’re safe here with me, Dorian thinks, but keeps it to himself. There are other things to consider, such as the way Bull sucks in a breath when Dorian reaches lower, taking Bull’s cock in hand.

He runs his hands along Bull’s shaft, around his balls. Bull is barely hard, but even so, his cock is a handful. Dorian is in no hurry. He’s not even thinking about sex, not really. It’s pleasant to just sit in the warm water, with a warm body close to him. Bull reaches down and takes one of Dorian’s hands into his own. Bends to kiss his knuckles.

Eventually it starts to feel a bit silly, sitting there holding hands with Bull with one hand still on his balls. Bull grins at him when he pulls his hands away. Dorian rolls his eyes, sits up and lifts Bull’s leg up over his shoulder. He starts rubbing the muscles in Bull’s thigh. Bull groans and leans back against the rim of the tub. The embrium steam works with him, and he can feel the muscles relax under his hands.

“That feels great. You have good hands.”

“You have enormous feet,” Dorian comments, because he has to say something true, and that is the safest thing he can think of.

“Well, yeah. It’s like my axe, to compensate for my cock,” Bull deadpans and Dorian sputters a laugh.

Eventually Dorian is satisfied with his work. He lets himself be pulled into Bull’s arms, settles against his chest. The light of the lamps forms quivering halos in the steamy room.

They lie like that for a long while, breathing in the embrium. Bull runs the sponge lazily over Dorian’s skin. When he works the foam into Dorian’s hair, Dorian groans and sighs. Bull’s hands aren’t delicate like his are, but they are skillful.

They’ll have to get up soon. Perhaps Dorian will follow Bull into his room, and fall asleep in his bed. Perhaps Dorian will wake up with his cock hard against Bull’s hip, and they can start the day in the best possible way. But right now, in this moment, Dorian is content.


End file.
